


Some Sort of Almost

by Oh_Contrary



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Biphobia, Bullying, Flashbacks, High School, Homophobia, Hormones, Hurt Lance, M/M, Pining Keith (Voltron), Stereotypical Public School shit, high school sweethearts, hurt keith, internalized and otherwise, sorta - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-07
Updated: 2019-03-14
Packaged: 2019-07-27 09:50:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 20,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16216544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oh_Contrary/pseuds/Oh_Contrary
Summary: Keith heard Pidge’s gasp from beside him and could feel her eyes flick to him.“That’s him isn’t it?” she whispered. “That’s your Lance from high school.”Or:Keith and Lance are running to and from their shared history. Will they ever find a middle ground? Is there even anything left to share?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello my darlings.
> 
> At the very top of this Google Doc it says the following:
> 
> Am I a fool? Yes. Will that stop me? It hasn’t before.
> 
> SO 
> 
> Welcome My second Big Chapter Fic and First Big AU!!  
> This is a bad Idea, I get that, but it's a fun one, so fuck common sense. I don't know that bitch.
> 
> Content Warnings: This is going to have plot relevant portrayals of bullying and use of homophobic language. This isn't a one chapter thing; it's gonna track all through the fic so take care of yourselves moving forwards.
> 
> As always, if anyone needs any additions content/trigger warnings, please let me know, either in the comments or shoot me a message on my [tumblr](https://profoundprincessface.tumblr.com/).
> 
> Lastly, this would not be happening without my beta, my darling, and forever muse [jenners1207.](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jenners1207/pseuds/jenners1207) Because of her, this entire fic got plotted in a day thanks to her and she's promised to keep me going! It almost makes up for how bad an influence i am on her.
> 
> Now, Happy reading folks!
> 
> all the love in universe,  
> ~Tay

Pidge chattered the entire walk to class, but it didn’t help calm Keith’s nerves. He took a deep breath. Shiro had prepared him for this. He and Adam wouldn’t have encouraged Keith to pick this school if they didn’t think he could manage it. He just had to remember that.

But walking into the huge laboratory, it was easy to feel intimidated. The tables were laden with state-of-the-art equipment and the floors shone. Students were already pairing off behind lab tables and finding potential partners.

“I see an open one!” Pidge said, taking Keith’s wrist and hauling him across the room. They got there the same moment as another pair. Keith caught a glimpse of the newcomers, one in yellow, one in blue, and froze. Somewhere in front of him, Keith registered that Pidge was about to fight the guy in yellow for the lab table but he couldn’t bring himself to feel concern. His heart had stopped. There, not one yard away from him, was someone he’d thought he’d never see again, much less like this: so close he could touch him. He reached out a hand— only to have it collide with Pidge’s back. He shook himself back to the present.

“Pidge, they can have it,” he said, his voice shaky and awestruck even to himself.

“What? We were here first—"

“No you weren’t,” Yellow guy said.

“Hunk, drop it,” came the voice from behind him. Keith nearly collapsed, heart fluttering in his chest. Even with years having passed, he still sounded like himself: bright and melodic.

“We’ll take that one over there. Sorry about her,” Keith finished, moving himself and Pidge around the table. As they passed, he took a good look, drinking in every familiar detail as he led Pidge to another workstation.

“What’s gotten into you?” Pidge asked, settling onto her stool and starting to pull out her notebooks.

“Nothing,” Keith said, hastily moving to follow; but even once he set up his stuff, he couldn’t pull his eyes away.

The professor sauntered in, a bright eyed ginger with a handlebar mustache, and set his stuff on the desk at the front of the room. He straightened up, hooked his thumbs in his vest, and turned to face them.

“Good Afternoon class! I am Professor Wimbledon-Smythe and welcome to advanced physics! I figure, considering you’re all ‘advanced’ learners we could get started with a fun little teaser! I’m going to write four problems on the board and call four of you up to solve them, two now at the beginning of class and two at the end.” Professor Smythe turned to the line of chalkboards and began to write, giving the class a chance to study each problem as it appeared.

“Now,” he called, setting down his chalk and turning back to them. “Since we don’t know each other, I’ll keep things fair. I’ll point my finger twice at my roll sheet and we’ll go from there. First—" his finger hit the page dramatically. “A Miss Ina Leifsdotter! Joining her will be—" again, the dramatic point—“Mr. Lance McClain!”

Keith heard Pidge’s gasp from beside him and could feel her eyes flick to him.

“That’s him isn’t it?” she whispered. “That’s your Lance from high school.”

Keith couldn’t help a smile as he nodded, letting class fall away as his mind carried him and the boy at the board back in time.

_Keith ran through the halls, already pulling his notebook out of his backpack as he approached Lance, who was just finishing up at his locker. Lance wasn’t in Aerospace Society anymore and hadn’t been able to come to the conference at the planetarium, but Keith had grabbed every flyer and pamphlet he’d seen and brought copies for Lance to look at._

_“This is all for you,” he said, handing over his conference folder. “I already made copies of everything,” he said, cutting Lance off before he could complain._

_“You didn’t have to do that, Keith,” Lance said, even as he smiled and opened the folder, looking at the star maps and theories inside. Keith shrugged._

_“I wanted to. It sucks you couldn’t come because of—what were you photographing again?”_

_“There was a swim meet,” Lance answered, smiling up at Keith. “It was actually really fun. The crowds for those things are insane. All the moms had really cute signs.”_

_Keith smiled. It was nice seeing Lance excited about stuff like this. At first Lance had been wary about joining yearbook (there was only one other guy on staff) but he was really enjoying himself, even if it meant he had to miss Aerospace Society meetings._

_“Hey,” Keith started, looking down at his feet. “You’re probably editing photos or something, but if not, do you—I mean, if you wanna, we could maybe eat together some lunch?” he paused, realizing his mix up and stammering as he continued “I mean like, eat lunch together,” he finished hastily. He looked at Lance, who was holding his new folder to his chest, brow furrowed as if thinking._

_“I do have photos to edit,” he stated slowly. Keith’s shoulders fell._

_“Oh. Well that’s fine—"_

_“But you could come sit with me in the yearbook room if you want?” Lance said. “There’s not usually anyone in there during lunch.” Lance turned and re-opened his locker, putting the folder away before closing it again and turning back to Keith. “How ‘bout it?”_

_“Yes! I mean—yeah. Yeah totally. I’ll meet you there.” Keith said, right as a hand clamped down on his shoulder._

_“Meet who where?” a slick voice asked. Keith didn't even have to look to know who it was. In front of him, Lance's eyes flickered with fear. Keith let a scowl cross his face as he turned to face the owner of the offending hand—_

“Very good, both of you!” Professor Smythe crowed. “Everyone give your classmates a hand as they make their way to their seats.”

Lance made his way back to Hunk, breathing a sigh of relief that he’d actually gotten the problem right. As he walked back to their table, he felt eyes on him, not uncalled for considering he was walking through a crowded classroom. He made it to his seat as Professor Smythe started lecturing again, but even as class settled in, he couldn’t shake the feeling he was being watched—after so many years watching his own back, it was too familiar a feeling to ignore.

He looked around, trying to be surreptitious as he appraised the room. Soon enough he’d not only found the offender, but locked eyes with him. The very act sent a chill down Lance’s spine. There was something so familiar there yet so jarring. He turned quickly away, focusing on his notes. He tried to write, but for whatever reason his hands were shaking. What was it about that guy?

“You okay?” Hunk whispered, looking Lance over.

“Fine,” Lance answered shortly. It was the truth. He was fine, just confused. Why did those eyes chill him like that?

It was another few minutes before Lance risked looking again. He was relieved to find the other boy intent on the lecture, attention flicking back and forth between his notes and the board.  There was just something about him—the dark hair and angular haircut, the set of his jaw, those eyes like liquid memory—that just called to something latent in Lance.

The other boy leaned over, asking his friend a question. His eyes flicked up, finding Lance. He smiled the slightest bit, a simple, small quirk of lips—

It sent a chill down Lance’s spine. He suddenly knew him. Knew that smile, knew the laugh that would escape those lips, knew the way those eyes looked as vitriol was shouted in cramped locker rooms and alleyways.

Lance turned purposefully away. Already he was struggling to breathe. His ribcage was tightening around his lungs and his thought were racing. His head was a mess of memories; of twisted words and bruises and those smiles that would make things better for one moment at a time—

In front of him class was ending. Professor Smythe was calling the last two students down to answer questions. He only had to make it 15 more minutes—

“And Mr. Keith Kogane!”

Lance felt like he was choking. He lurched off of his stool, dashing for the back door to the classroom. He was instantly glad that Hunk had insisted on this table at the end of a row. His escape went practically unnoticed.

In the halls, he gasped for breath, searching frantically for a restroom or even a janitor’s closet. Just somewhere—anywhere that he could hide. Anywhere he could fall apart in peace.

He found a restroom in the building’s basement, locking himself in. He sunk down against the door, hanging his head in his hands. He could hear everything—

_“Come on, McClain. Don’t I look pretty?” Lotor asked as he struck a pose in the scarf Lance had been wearing. It had been a gift from his aunt and was his favorite color—_

_“Looks like pretty boy doesn’t wanna share his accessories,” Sendak said with a cruel laugh._

_“Oh no,” Lotor cooed, tutting down at Lance on the locker room floor. He kicked a foot into Lance’s gut, sending him bouncing back into the lockers with a clang. “Didn’t Mommy teach you to share, McClain? So many kids in that little house of yours. Surely you’ve learned by now.” Lotor let the scarf slip from his fingers and it fluttered towards the ground in front of Lance. He reached for it only to have Sendak snatch it out of the air. He knelt in front of Lance, sliding the smooth fabric through his fist._

_“Maybe he just didn’t like how you were wearing it Lotor. Maybe the little twink’s got an eye for fashion.”_

_“Give it back,” Lance growled, reaching for the scarf. Sendak pulled it away with one hand and grabbed Lance’s wrist with another. A cruel glint filled his eyes._

_“Or maybe he likes it another way,” he snarled. He started to wrap the scarf around one of Lance’s wrists before grabbing his other wrist and tying them together. He had just jerked a knot in place when Keith came careening into the room._

_“Ah, Kogane,” Lotor purred. “Right on time. Sendak and I were just about to have some fun with your little boy toy.” Lotor snaked an arm around Keith’s shoulders, pulling him into the room. He brought Keith to stand over Lance and Sendak._

_“Keith!” Lance cried, only to be silence by a slap from Sendak._

_“Shut up,” he said, finishing the knot and stepping back._

_“What do you think Keith? Do we leave the little prick’s scarf around his wrists? Or do we shove it in his mouth so we don’t have to hear him whine?”_

_The entire time, Lance lay petrified on the ground. They’d never gone this far before. Surely Keith would say something—_

_But when he looked up at the other boy, Keith looked away._

_“I think this entire thing is lame,” he stated, voice level and cold. “And if you two wanna play around with him, go ahead, but I’m not gonna watch you two dance around like fairies.”_

_Keith wrenched himself out of Lotor’s grasp and left._

_Lotor laughed, high and loud._

_“Would you look at that.” He knelt in front of Lance, taking his bruised chin in hand. “Looks like Keith doesn’t wanna play with you today, Lance. Hope you’re not to hurt about it.” He flicked Lance’s swelling cheek then stood. Lotor slung his bag over his shoulder and kicked at Lance’s bound wrists._

_“You can have your scarf back,” Lotor chuckled, turning and leaving with Sendak._

_Lance was left tied up on the locker room floor. He waited, hoping Keith would come back and help him—at least untie him. But he didn’t._

_By the time Lance had gotten out of his bindings, he’d rubbed his wrists raw._


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> buongiorno principessa(s)!!
> 
> Sup my loves. It time for: 
> 
> Even!! More!! Angst!! 
> 
> also known as: Chapter 2!!
> 
> Same warnings as last time: plot relevant portrayals of bullying and portrayals of homophobia both internalized and externalized (including use of homophobic language).
> 
> As always, Please let me know if there are any additional trigger or content warnings I need to add. We're here to have fun, not panic attacks.
> 
> Let's do this!!
> 
> besos on your face-os  
> ~Tay

Hunk came into the dorm and was relieved to find Lance curled up on the bed. He’d waited in the physics building for half an hour after class but the other boy hadn’t returned. He’d tried calling him, but Lance’s phone was still off from class so Hunk had headed out towards their dorm and hoped for the best.

“Thank goodness you’re here,” Hunk sighed, closing the door and depositing his backpack on the floor by his desk. “Veronica would kill me if I’d managed to lose you on the first day.” He waited for Lance to respond but got nothing. Was the other boy asleep? Hunk crossed to Lance’s bed, studying him for a moment.

“Hey, everything okay?” he asked, brushing a hand against Lance’s shoulder lightly. Lance rolled away from the contact.

“Fine.” he said. “Just… bad memories I guess.” Hunk pursed his lips, his entire face tensing at Lance’s words, but he nodded and stepped away.

“Alright,” he said, settling in at his desk. “Just let me know if you need anything.” But Lance said nothing for the next few hours. 

Dinner time rolled around and Lance still hadn’t moved. Hunk stood, making a big production of moving about the room and getting ready to go eat. After minutes with no movement from Lance, he finally crossed back to the bed.

“I’m gonna go to the dining hall and get some dinner. You wanna come?”

“I’m okay. You have fun though,” Lance sighed. Even though he was expecting it, Hunk was still saddened by the answer. He fought not to sigh. It was always the same when Lance got like this: no appetite, no will to do anything, and short, polite answers to keep it all under wraps.

“You want me to bring you anything?” Hunk asked even though he’d already decided to.

“If you want.”

“Does it matter what?”

“Nah, you know what I like,” Lance said, finishing on a yawn. 

“Okay,” Hunk said, grabbing his stuff and heading to the door. He moved slowly as if the longer he took increased the odds of Lance changing his mind. Ultimately, he made it out the door without interruption, leaving him to go to the dining hall alone.

By the time he returned, a plate of chicken, rice, and veggies for Lance in hand, the other boy was already asleep.

 

***

 

“So are you gonna try and talk to him?” Pidge asked, spearing another piece of squash with her fork. She waved it around as she continued. “Because if you don’t, or like, if you want to but don’t know how, I’m sure I can like, set something up.”

“How would you even do that?” Keith asked, finally looking up from his chicken. “And besides, what would I say? He probably doesn’t even remember me.”

“Then  _ make  _ him remember you. If everything you’ve told me about you two is true, then you guys were definitely some sort of almost back in high school. Now you’re both older, wiser, gayer—”

“Pidge!” 

“What, it’s true! You’re like, finally comfortable about that stuff. Even just senior year we could have never sat down and had me just ask you about a boy you liked.” 

Keith fought a blush, but didn’t deny it. He was definitely more comfortable with his queer identity now than he was in high school. Even after moving in with Shiro and transferring to Iverson Prep, it had taken him a long time to finally accept that he was gay, much less tell anybody about it. (Of course, when he finally had come out to Shiro and Adam, they hadn’t even been able to fake surprise. Shiro simply smiled softly, happy that Keith was finally comfortable with his identity and felt safe enough to tell them. Adam had taken them all out to eat. It was corny, but Keith had been really happy. It had felt like his first true family outing in a long time.)

“Anyways,” Pidge said, pulling him out of his moment with a look that said she knew exactly where his embarrassment had taken him, “You’re older now. You’re better at people now—”

“Seriously?”

“I got you fresh off the boat, Keith. You weren’t what anyone would call sociable,” she deadpanned. Keith rolled his eyes but motioned for her to continue. “But Shiro helped with that. You’ve got a lot going for you. I mean, I don’t do like… guys, but I’m sure you’re a total catch. You’re smart, you’re considerate, you’re like objectively attractive— I mean the only thing not in your favor is you!” Pidge leaned forwards across the table and looked at him intently. “So are you gonna talk to him?”

Keith knew his cheeks were aflame with blush but he nodded. 

“Yeah, I’ll see if I can catch him after class sometime.” Pidge nearly fell out of her chair dancing.

“This is so much fun! You’re gonna like,  _ woo  _ somebody.”

“Can you calm down? It’s not a big deal.”

“Oh, it really is Keith. I haven’t been this excited since you got your Altea acceptance letter.”

“Not this excited for your own?” Keith asked, raising an eyebrow. 

Pidge laughed, sinking back into her chair. “I knew I was gonna get in. It was you I had to worry about.”

Keith barked out a laugh. “And you call  _ me  _ unsociable.”

Soon the conversation dissolved into good-natured bickering, Pidge and Keith sniping at each other until they left the dining hall. They walked to their building and Keith walked Pidge to her room.

“Tomorrow we’ll plan what you’ll say. You need to make him remember you,” she said sliding through her door.

“You’re really into this for someone who doesn’t do the whole dating thing,” Keith remarked. 

She shrugged. “I guess I’m living vicariously through you. It’d be nice to see you happy though.” 

Keith gave her a fond look. “I am happy, Pidge,” he answered. She looked him up and down.

“Happier then. G’night Keith.” With that, she slid in the door, closing it before Keith could think too hard on her words. He went back to his room. He’d somehow managed to get a single as a freshman and he was happy to have a space of his own. He washed up and got into bed, letting his head fill with scenarios of him approaching Lance.

He could see it already: him going up to Lance and his friend after class and starting to reintroduce himself. Lance would cut him off, filling in the blanks with a smile. They’d start to talk. Pidge and Lance’s friend would both just laugh as they reconnected. Pidge would rib them from the sidelines, but Keith would ignore her and focus on Lance. Maybe, if he kept this up— little chats after class, getting to know Lance again after two years apart— he’d work up the courage to ask Lance for his number. Maybe even ask him out eventually.

He smiled to himself, letting his latent fantasies carry him into a peaceful sleep.

  
  


Wednesday came and Keith was a ball of nervous energy. He’d spent the last day and a half driving Pidge up the wall figuring out what he’d say to Lance, and now, finally walking into class, he was nearly sick with excitement. They settled into their seats and Keith looked over at the table Lance had occupied last week. He wasn’t there yet, but he and Pidge were early. But the clock ticked closer and closer to 3:30 and Lance still hadn’t arrived.

“What if he doesn’t show?” Keith asked finally, turning to Pidge. 

“He better,” she all but growled. “I don’t know if I can do another two days of you pining like an idiot.”

“I’m not pining,” Keith snapped. Pidge gave him a look. “Fine, whatever. But seriously—”

He cut off as Lance and his friend came in the back door of the hall. They rushed to their seats, talking intently about something as they went. From afar it almost looked like they were arguing. Whatever was going on, it ended abruptly as Professor Smythe called the class to order. Despite this, Lance stayed tense and jittery the entire class. His head would twitch to the side as if stopping the urge to look around— although on one occasion, Lance let his eyes wander the classroom. They landed on Keith, who blushed guiltily to be caught watching the other boy, only to have Lance’s expression go tense. His head turned quickly forwards, refocusing toward the board. 

Class ended and Lance was out of the room in a flash, his friend following with a shake of his head.

Pidge sighed, turning and gathering her own stuff. “We’ll try after Friday’s class,” she said. Keith simply nodded, letting her lead him out of the room. To his surprise, they passed Lance and his friend in the hallway, whispering fiercely to each other. Keith couldn’t help the way his eyes lingered on the scene, Lance’s brows furrowed together and his friend's face exasperated. 

Lance rolled his eyes at something his friend said and, as if fated, they landed past his friend’s shoulder, meeting Keith’s. Lance went still, eyes lingering for just a second before his expression went hard and he turned his head slowly away. His friend noticed and turned his head as if to follow Lance’s gaze, but Lance stopped him with a hand.

“It’s nothing, Hunk,” he said coldly. “Let’s just get out of here.” Lance turned away, taking off in the opposite direction towards the back of the building.

Hunk groaned. “Lance wait!” he called, hightailing it after the other boy. For how close they were in height, it always seemed that Lance’s long legs could propel him yards in mere seconds. He caught up with him out back on the northern side of the physics building.

“What’s gotten into you?” Hunk asked, letting his frustration seep into his voice. Lance had been miserable since their last class— distant and standoffish— and refused to give even a hint as to what brought it on. He’d barely even gotten Lance to lecture today, and the other boy had fussed and sniped the entire time. “Is this because I’m switching physics classes?” Hunk asked. He knew that wasn’t it— he hadn’t brought it up until this morning— but it could certainly be contributing to whatever shitty mood had seized Lance over the course of lecture.

“That has nothing to do with it,” Lance said, keeping his fast pace as they walked towards their dorm.

“Why don’t I believe that?” Hunk asked, cutting in front of Lance and blocking his path.

Lance bristled before looking away with a pout. “Fine. yeah, I’m upset we won’t be in physics together this semester, but you got into a Junior seminar. I’m not going to tell you not to take it just because I don’t wanna switch lab partners. I’m not a jerk.”

“Then what’s going on, Lance?” Hunk pleaded. “Is someone messing with you? Is it homesickness? Just tell me. I’m your best friend.”

“It’s nothing, just—” Lance stopped. What could he say? That there’s a ghost he’d tried to forget in his physics class? It had been years since he last saw Keith. He shouldn’t be as shaken by this as he was and yet—

He shook himself. If he told Hunk about Keith and the physics class, Hunk wouldn’t want to take his new seminar and it truly was a great opportunity. Bracing himself, he fell back on a reliable excuse. “Just flashback stuff,” he managed. Technically, it wasn’t untrue. “I guess it messed me up more than I thought. Sorry I’ve been a hassle.”

Hunk’s eyes tightened with that look he swore wasn’t pity (but Lance could never be sure). His hands flexed with the urge to reach out, but he didn’t. Lance appreciated it.

“Don’t apologize,” Hunk said (like he always did). “I just wanted to know what’s up. You had me worried. Sorry for being so pushy.”

Lance shrugged. “I need pushy sometimes.” He readjusted his bag on his shoulder and stuck his hands deep in his pockets. “How about we go to a dining hall and I let you feed me like you’ve been trying to the last two days.”

“Oh thank god. I was getting worried. Let’s go put some food in you,” Hunk said, towing Lance away with a smile.

Friday’s class rolled around and, though he’d told Hunk he was fine on his own. Lance would be lying if he said he wasn’t nervous. 

When he got to class, he sat in his usual spot and waited for things to get started. Professor Smythe came in, looking down at his tablet and tugging on one end of his mustache. He looked up at the class, finding Lance at his table and beckoning him down to the front. 

“Good afternoon class,” Professor Smythe said. “Before we get started today I have to ask a kindness of you: Mr. McClain’s lab partner Mr. Garrett has switched to a different timed lecture, leaving Mr. McClain here without a partner. Would any existing pair be willing to take him on?”

“We’ll take him!” A voice cried immediately. Lance breathed a sigh of relief, glad he’d been spared the humiliation of no one picking him. Relief faded into alarm as he looked across the room to the hand in the air. 

The hand belonging to the girl at Keith’s table. Even Keith seemed shocked by this development and they locked shocked eyes. Lance blanched. He couldn’t do this for an entire semester

“Um, Professor—”

“Wonderful, Miss Holt!” Professor Smythe crowed, not even noticing Lance’s plaintive whisper. “Mr. McClain, if you would join Miss Holt and Mr. Kogane.”

Lance tried to keep his breathing under control as he walked up the aisle to his new spot. 

“I’m Pidge,” the girl said, scooting over so he could settle in at the edge of the table. He  pulled out his notebook and kept his eyes firmly in front of him.

“I’m Keith,” Keith said, offering forwards a hand. Lance ignored the gesture, rifling through his backpack as an excuse.

“Lance,” he said plainly, turning his attention up front. Even as he studiously ignored both Keith and Pidge throughout lecture, he could feel the glances they would shoot him. 

No class had ever felt longer.

They were finally dismissed and Lance packed his things in a flash, mumbling goodbye before running off. He knew he was being his rude, especially since it had actually been rather nice of Pidge to bring him in when she didn’t have to, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. The entire thing seemed too neat, too many coincidences all at once and none of them in his favor. Luckily, today was Friday and he would have the entire weekend to prepare for Monday's class. 

But even with all that time, he still wasn’t ready. In a gesture he’s sure she thought was kind, Pidge gave him her seat, relegating him to the middle of the table, sandwiching him between her and Keith. 

It was torture. 

Sitting so close he was hyper-aware of the other boy. Every sigh, every breath, every furtive glance in Lance’s direction seemed to thrust Lance back in time, filling his brain with a jumble of bad jokes shared between classes, shy laughs under the bleachers, and cold eyes turning away, leaving him hurt on the ground.

On Wednesday, he got to class late, making sure Keith and Pidge were entrenched in conversation before he approached the desk, sliding in on Pidge’s side and settling her in the middle.

“Oh, do you not wanna sit by Keith?” She asked, voice sweet and level. “I really don’t mind—”

“I like being close to the aisle.” Lance said, turning to his books. He said nothing for the rest of class, trying his best to ignore the other pair entirely.

Friday’s class was yet another struggle. Even though Lance managed his seat on the end with Pidge separating him and Keith, it didn’t matter. They were doing a group assignment in class as a way for Prof. Smythe to teach them all the equipment in the lab. It meant they spent the entire class on their feet, moving about the room and passing each other, shuffling about like a school of fish as they were led from task to task—

And every time he looked, Keith was looking at him. It was always the same: a soft smile and he would open his mouth as if to speak. Lance could barely ever turn away fast enough. He knew it was rude but every flash of that smile was—

 

_ Keith laughed, trying to hide his grin behind his fist and giving Lance a soft look before turning back to his lunch. They were eating in the yearbook room, sitting next to each other at a computer. It had started with Keith wanting to show Lance a new conspiracy video he’d found, and had devolved into Lonely Island videos and fail compilations.  _

_ Keith’s laughter tapered off and he turned to Lance with a soft, thoughtful smile. His head tilted slightly, asking the question before his lips moved. _

_ “What’s your favorite song?” Keith asked. He reached across Lance, grabbing the mouse and clicking the search bar on Youtube.  _

_ Lance was in a daze. That wasn’t what he’d been expecting. The question felt oddly intimate for some reason. Maybe it was the heat _ — _ the AC had been broken on this side of the building for a week now _ —  _ or maybe it was the way Keith had been looking at him recently. Soft like this, a smile tugging at his lips _ —

_ “Lance?” Keith said again, leaning one elbow on the desk and looking at the other boy. “What’s up?” _

_ “I-uh. Nothing. I’ll _ — I'll  _ have to get back to you on that one I, uh. I have to use the bathroom!” He stood abruptly, pushing away from the desk and scurrying towards the door. “Be right back!” he called, escaping into the hall.  _

_ His heart was pounding in his chest and he couldn’t figure out why. He and Keith had spent lunches together like this all school-year. Why did it suddenly feel so _ —  _ Lance blushed as the word filled his mind _ — _ intimate? _

_ He shook himself, trying to clear his mind as he finished the walk to the boy’s room. It didn’t work, and he was distracted as he entered the restroom. If he’d been paying attention, the immediate smell of cigarette smoke would have set him on edge and he might have made an escape before he was noticed. Instead, he was shocked by the slick voice from the end of the room. _

_ “Well if it isn’t Keithy’s boy toy. What? No hello today McClain?”  _

_ Lance stopped, tensing as he looked up at Lotor, Sendak, and Hapta. They were all leaning against the back wall, Lotor leaning halfway out the small bathroom window as he smoked a cigarette. _

_ Lotor pushed off the wall, slinking towards Lance.  _

_ “Well? No ‘hello Lotor, how are you?’ Or ‘oh Lotor, please don’t hit me for being a worthless little sissy?’” Lotor stopped in front of Lance. “I’m waiting McClain.” _

_ He took a drag from his cigarette and leaned down so he was eye level with Lance.  _

_ “Come on,” he said, letting smoke flow out of his mouth and into Lance’s face. “Say it.” _

_ Lance turned his face away. “H-hello Lotor, how are you?”  _

_ Lotor chuckled cruelly before grabbing a handful of Lance’s hair harshly, Lance cried out, raising his hands to scrabble at Lotor’s, but they were grabbed on either side by Sendak and Hapta. Lotor turned Lance’s face forwards.  _

_ “Feeling smart today, huh. Say it. Correctly this time.” But Lance did nothing, averting his eyes. Lotor tutted, sliding his hand out of Lance's hair and pulling it back into a fist. Lance flinched back.  _

_ “Don't _ — _ ” he whimpered, practically on accident.  _

_ “Say it!” _

_ “Please don’t hit me!” Lance cried. He pulled against Sendak and Hapta’s grips, trying to wriggle free. Lotor raised his fist higher. _

_ “Say it all!” Lance shook his head. Lotor’s fist moved down towards his face _ —

_ “P-please don’t hit me for being a worthless little sissy!” He jumbled desperately. He opened one eye, jumping to see Lotor’s fist so close to his face, having stopped less that a centimeter from Lance’s cheek. _

_ Lotor relaxed. He grabbed Lance’s chin and wagged it back and forth. _

_ “That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Lotor said. He took another drag from his cigarette and went back to the window, letting his smoke rise out into the air. “Let him go.” _

_ Sendak and Hapta let go of Lance’s arms and walked towards Lotor, Sendak making sure to push Lance into the wall on his way past. _

_ “Have a good rest of your day, McClain,” Lotor sneered.  _

_ Lance ran out of the bathroom, dashing back through the hall towards the yearbook room. He stopped at the end. He couldn’t let Keith see him like this. He could feel the sting behind his eyes that meant he was on the brink of tears. He sniffled once, turning and shoving his face into the corner. Why didn’t he ever stick up for himself? He took one deep breath then another one, trying desperately to center himself. He’d nearly managed it when someone came up behind him. He whirled around, eyes wild _ —

_ “Lance?” Keith asked, brow furrowed with concern. “You were gone a long time. Are- are you okay? Have you been crying?” Keith reached out and took Lance by the elbows, tugging him gently back to the yearbook room. He sat him down in his chair and leaned close. “What’s going on, Lance? Lance? _ — _ ” _

 

“Lance?” Keith asked, he was leaning close, head tilted to the side as he looked at Lance with apparent concern. “You okay?” 

“I’m fine,” Lance managed, voice unsteady.

“You sure?” Keith  asked, reaching out carefully. His fingers wrapped gently around the curve of Lance’s elbow, and the other boy pulled away with a jolt. He bumped into the table, causing their materials to clatter.

“I said I’m fine,” he snapped, raising his hands between himself and Keith. “Don’t just go around touching people, Kogane.”

“I’m sorry,” Keith said, backing off immediately. Though his concern didn’t lessen. Lance had gone pale and his eyes moved frantically about the room. 

“I’m gonna get some water,” Lance said, sliding out from behind the table. “Go ahead and clean up without me.”

Keith could only watch as the other boy slipped through the room and out the door. He looked over at Pidge who was also watching confused as Lance scampered off. 

“What exactly happened?” she asked finally, turning to him.

“I was trying to check in and I… I touched his elbow. It just happened, I mean, he used to be so tactile—”

“He also used to be chatty according to you but obviously that isn’t the case either. The guy barely talks.”

“I know, I think that’s why I’m so worried about him,” Keith said, turning and starting to gather their materials. 

“You probably startled him. I mean, he might not remember you, so I can see him getting weirded out. Just let him know you mean well.” 

Keith nodded, turning back to the task at hand. They continued cleaning their station and class ticked to an end. Lance came back in as they were dismissed, slipping through everyone who was leaving and heading back towards their table. He was stopped in the aisle by Professor Smythe. 

“Mr. McClain, I hope you don't think that an extra person at your table means you are exempt from your share of the work. It's your job to keep up during class and also help with cleanup. Don't let me catch you foisting your duties onto your companions as you sneak out of the room.”

Lance started to nod, lowering his eyes. “Yes professor—”

“It's my fault Professor.” Keith said. “I didn't think Lance was looking well. I told him to get some water and take a break and that I'd handle his part of cleanup.” 

Professor Smythe looked between the two of them. 

“He's right Professor,” Pidge said. 

Professor Smythe looked back at Lance and nodded. “Then my apologies, Lance. But, for future reference, on days when experiments are running all students must ask permission to leave the lab.” He looked at all of them. “Do remember that in the future. Now off with the lot of you and have a safe weekend.”

Keith and Pidge made their goodbyes as Lance went to the table and packed up his notes. Out in the hall, Pidge turned to Keith. 

“Wait for him. Fix things. Text me after.” With that, she left. Moments after, Lance came out, slinging his satchel over his shoulder. He saw Keith and his stride faltered. 

“Sorry about before,” Keith said. “I should've given you some space.” Lance looked at him warily. The scrutiny of it made Keith want to look away, but he stood firm. 

“It's fine. I shouldn't have yelled,” Lance said, turning and starting down the hall. Keith followed. 

“Can I walk with you wherever you're going next?” Lance glanced over at him. 

“Why?” He asked, face scrunching into a sneer. Keith was taken aback. 

“So we can talk? Get to know each other better?” 

“You don't want to know me, Kogane” Lance said, chuckling wryly and shaking his head. “We know that already.”

“Can't I at least decide that for myself?” Keith ducked in front of Lance, walking backwards in front of him. Lance stopped. 

“And what would you decide? What are you expecting?” 

“That I'd like getting to know you? You under all this.”

Lance gave a cruel laugh. “This is it dude. There's no caramel center, just this. I'd go ahead and get over it.” 

He turned away, shaking his head on a sad laugh. Keith simply watched, the motion of it so achingly familiar.

He left, heading back to his dorm in silence. In his room, he stripped and left his clothes on the floor before stepping into his bathroom and turning on the shower. He stepped beneath the spray, letting the hot water beat against his tense shoulders. It was hard, practically heartbreaking, to see Lance so cold and withdrawn. It felt so dissonant when compared with the Lance of his memories; a Lance who was unfailingly affectionate and warm. Although that last moment in the hall had been so familiar—

 

_ Keith was panting, but he didn't stop running. Lotor’s words rang clear in his ears _ — _ ‘Lovely little boy you've got there. Pity he's so much trouble. You’d think he'd have learned to hold that tongue of his.’ _

_ Keith had stopped listening, taking off at a run to try and find the other boy.  _

_ “Lance? Lance!!” He ran faster, fingers scraping along the brick as he swung around a corner. He stopped, looking out at the cluster of sports fields. “Lance!” He yelled. He took off again.  The other boy could be anywhere _ —

_ He saw a flicker up ahead, someone limping into the boys room. He ran, skidding into the restroom and freezing. Lance was at the sink rinsing his mouth. He spat into the sink. The water was pink with blood.  _

_ Lance looked in the mirror and checked out his split lip. His eyes strayed to the shadow behind him. _

_ “Keith?”  _

_ Keith jolted as if electrified and ran to the other boy.  _

_ “Lance!” He grabbed Lance by the shoulders, pulling him into a quick hug before letting go. He checked him over, frowning at what he saw. There were scratches all up Lance’s arms and his jeans were torn on one knee. A cut behind the hole was bleeding sluggishly. He looked at Lance’s face. His bottom lip was split, but that seemed to be the only mark on his face.  _

_ “Are you okay?” Keith asked. He reached out, running gentle fingers along the bottom of Lance's chin _ —

_ Only to have the other boy pull away.  _

_ “Why do you care?” Lance said, looking away. _

_ “What? Lance, I just want to help _ — _ ” _

_ “Yeah. Now when everyone’s gone and the damage is done.” _

_ “Lance I’m sorry. I should’ve been here sooner _ — _ ” _

_ “That’s what you always say. After, they come for me; your ‘friends.’ It’s always the same.” _

_ Keith took another step forwards, reaching for Lance. “Lance. Please _ — _ ” _

_ “Don’t touch me!” Lance said, voice cracking. His eyes welled with tears. “Don’t _ — _ not since you don’t mean it.” _

_ “Lance?” _

_ “I like you Keith. I really like you, but I can’t do this. I can’t just sit around and take this because you want me to.” _

_ “Lance, I don’t want this! How could you think that I’d wish this on you _ — _ ” _

_ “Because you never seem to be here for me when I need you! You say you will be, but you never are.” _

_ “Lance, I _ — _ I’m trying. I promise, I am, but _ —”

_ “But it isn’t working Keith.” Lance looked at him with sad eyes. “I want this to, but it isn’t working.” _

_ “Lance, you’re stressed and you’re upset. Let me walk you to your locker and we can calm down _ —”  _ Keith stepped forwards, reaching for Lance again. _

_ Lance stumbled back, Backing into a wall. “I don’t need to calm down Keith! I need _ — _ I need time. _

_ “Ok,” Keith said, gently taking Lance’s hands. He pulled the other boy forwards and wrapped gentle arms around him until Lance’s head was resting on his shoulder. Hot tears soaked into Keith’s shirt. “We’ll find some time.” _

_ Lance shook his head. Stepping out of the hug and wiping his eyes. _

_ “Keith, I need time away.” Lance said slowly. Keith’s brow furrowed. _

_ “But what will you do about class?” _

_ “Not away from school, Keith. Away from you.” The air in the bathroom turned thick as both boys fell silent. Keith floundered for words, trying to figure out how they’d gotten here. How had Lance, who’d been in his arms mere seconds ago, come to so horrifying a conclusion? _

_ “I just, I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep mending my clothes and buying concealer to hide bruises. This is too much and it’s just not worth it.” Lance finished, voice tapering off into a sad whisper. He walked around Keith to the door. _

_ “I’m sorry Keith,” he said quietly. Nevertheless, it was followed by a wry chuckle. “But I’m sure it won’t take long for you to get over me.” _

_ Keith whirled around, the words to stop Lance and dispute so wild a claim springing to the tip of his tongue _ —

_ But Lance was already gone. _

 

Keith’s eyes snapped open. He turned off the shower and stepped out, but even in the thick steam clogging the room, he was shivering. He wiped at the fog on the mirror, looking at his own, ragged reflection. He almost laughed at the irony of it. 

Again he stood in the bathroom completely alone and wishing he could fix things with Lance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What was your favorite moment? Where do you think we're going next?
> 
> Let me know in a comment!
> 
> Visit me on [tumblr](https://profoundprincessface.tumblr.com/) to watch me collect memes and mourn vine.
> 
> xoxo  
> ~Tay


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello Lovelies! 
> 
> It's my birthday so y'all better be extra sweet to me in the comments.
> 
> No additional warnings for this chapter. Per usual, please let me know if there are any content/trigger warnings I need to add!
> 
> Now... Let's angst!!
> 
> besos from the birthday bitch  
> ~Tay

“Say something,” Pidge hissed, elbowing Keith in the side. It was Monday and class was ending, Lance had already packed up and was making his way down the aisle towards the door.

“What would I even say? You didn’t hear him Friday after class.”

“No, which is why it’s up to you to figure this out. You can’t just stand around and stare at him.” Pidge scolded, slinging her back over her shoulder and starting on her way out of the room. Keith withheld a pout. She was right, but, in all honesty, looking at Lance was so satisfying. Despite the boy’s new attitude, his appearance was still so familiar. It was almost comforting at this point. Keith could look at him and it was like looking back in time, back before everything got confused.

He followed slowly after Pidge, listening to her complain about his inaction and ultimately agreeing with her. Every day that went by, his chances of mending things with Lance dwindled. He had to do something soon, he just didn’t know what. Maybe it was just time to let go and confess. At least then Lance would be abreast of the situation and maybe they could both move forwards.

Unless of course he freaked Lance out. It was highly possible, especially considering Lance didn’t seem to remember him. The more he thought about it, the more likely that outcome seem. He could ruin his chances permanently if he spoke up. He had to figure out a move in-between.

Wednesday’s class, he and Pidge were settling into their seats when she stopped him.

“Switch with me,” she said suddenly.

“What?”

“Just do it,” she said, pushing her way towards Keith’s stool. She slid his notebook to the middle and ushered him into her seat. He’d just settled back in when Lance walked up to the desk, freezing as he looked at the configuration. He said nothing, but radiated hesitance as he settled into his seat. An awkward minute passed before Pidge’s elbow rammed into Keith’s ribs. He jumped and turned to her with a glare. She widened her eyes at him, looking between him and Lance and waving her hands in a ‘come on’ motion. Keith rolled his eyes but turned back to the other boy. He cleared his throat, looking over at Lance who was doodling idly in his margins of his notebook. Keith opened his mouth once then again, trying to think of something unobtrusive to start with.

Pidge rolled her eyes, reached over, and wrote in the corner of his notebook ‘how are you???’ She slammed the pencil down on the table, causing even Lance to look up and over at the pair.

Well, he already had Lance’s attention—

“How are you?” Keith blurted out. Lance simply looked at him. “I mean, how’s your day been so far? Are your Wednesdays busy? Or is this your only class today?” He cut himself off, realizing he was babbling without giving Lance a chance to respond. He sent the other boy a small smile and he tensed. Keith’s smile faltered. If anything, Lance looked suspicious. His eyes settled into what could only be called a glare and he turned pointedly back to his notebook.

“My day’s been fine. Wednesdays aren’t too bad.” Lance said quietly.

Keith grinned. “That’s good. How many other classes do you have?”

“Just one,” Lance answered, still without looking at Keith.

Before Keith could say anything else, Professor Smythe burst in, apologizing for being late and calling the class to order.

During the break, Keith tried again, but Lance gave the same short answers, clenching his jaw and staring directly down at his notes. Keith tried to speak again, stumbling over his words as he searched for something else he could ask Lance, but the other boy stood abruptly, muttering ‘water’ and leaving the room without looking back. Keith hadn’t even gotten his question out.

By the time Lance got back, Coran was continuing the lecture and any chance of speaking had passed. Predictably, at the end of class, Lance ran out like he was being chased. Keith supposed it was a fair assumption, as he’d considered trying to get ahold of the boy on the way out.

“Well that was bust,” Pidge muttered.

“You don’t have to remind me,” Keith said, slinging his bag over his shoulder. He and Pidge made their way towards the exit, only to be stopped by Professor Smythe.

“Miss Holt, Mr. Kogane, a word if you have a moment?” He beckoned them forwards with a hand, leaning against the desk and turning to look at them. Despite his usual youthful, if not chaotic, energy, he suddenly exuded the calm scrutiny of his age. “I can’t help but notice a certain amount of tension at your table during class. Is everything alright between you two and Mr. McClain?”

Keith blanched. There was something in Coran’s eye that was simply too knowing. Although, he supposed it was the man’s job to pay attention to them. With them being an already weird seating formation, plus their poor showing in last Friday’s lab, it was no wonder Coran had been watching.

“I think we’re all just trying to adjust, professor,” Pidge said.

“Is there anything I can do to assist? All three of you have listed intentions towards majors where what you learn in this class will be an essential building block. I’d hate for you to sabotage yourselves unnecessarily.”

Pidge looked at Keith and Keith looked at Pidge. It was an odd feeling to have something so private as his current issues with Lance mentioned in such a way. He knew Professor Smythe had none of the details, but the man’s grey eyes were so knowing. Keith swallowed, but shook his head.

        “I think we’re fine for now, but we’ll be sure to reach out if we need anything,” Keith said carefully. He met the professor’s eye, standing firm as the Mr. Smythe’s eyes narrowed and raked over the pair of them. Finally, the older man shrugged.

        “Very well. But I do want you to come to me should any issues arise. I know what it’s like to be where you are—I was in those very seats not too many years ago. I know how emotional distractions can cripple us. Do not pull each other down.” His words hung in the air for an ominous moment before he popped off the desk as if nothing was amiss. “Now you lot have a safe evening, and I’ll see you in class on Friday!”

        He waved them off, rounding the desk to gather his things and, apparently, putting them from his mind.

The walk back to their dorm was quiet. Keith slunk into his room with a weary sigh that soon turned into a frustrated groan. He knew he was being irrational, but no matter Lance’s behavior, he couldn’t get the other boy out of his head. He flopped face down onto his bed, groaning into his pillow until his frustration had waned. He rolled over, looking up at the bare ceiling and letting his mind wander.

 

_“Lance?” Keith said, looking around the empty parking lot. The other boy was sitting on the edge of the curb, arms around his knees and shoulders hunched against the mid autumn breeze. “What’re you doing out here?” Keith asked, dropping down beside him._

_“Hm? Oh, there was a bunch of stupid gossip floating around in the yearbook room. I just didn’t wanna put up with it,” Lance said. But even as the other boy spoke. Keith could hear the weariness in the other boy’s voice._

_“Is that it?” Keith asked carefully, scooting closer. That didn’t seem like enough to justify the funk that was dampening Lance’s mood, but Keith didn’t want to pry._

_“Yeah,” Lance said without looking at him. The other boy just stared out over the parking lot. Even though it was after school, there were still people milling about, hanging out in clusters around cars or lazing in the grass while waiting for the bus. Keith tried to follow Lance’s gaze but couldn’t find whatever held the boy’s interest. He scooted closer, resting a hand on Lance’s arm_ —

_“You’re freezing!” Keith said. He untied his red jacket from around his waist and held it out to the other boy. Lance looked up at Keith in surprise._

_“Keith, I’m fine_ — _”_

_“You have goosebumps all up your arms. C’mere.” Lance stood slowly, slipping his arms into Keith’s jacket as instructed. Keith pulled the jacket up onto Lance’s shoulders, before turning Lance around and rubbing up and down his arms to warm them. Lance looked wide eyed up at Keith, blushing lightly. Keith didn’t notice, reaching down Lance’s body for the zipper and tugging the two ends together. “Still cold Miami?”_

_“N-no,” Lance stuttered, flushing slightly. He looked down at his torso and Keith’s hands just below his navel._

_Keith drew the zipper up Lance’s chest and tapped Lance under his chin._

_“Good.” he pulled back, looking at Lance in his jacket, then froze, realizing all at once what he’d done. He’d never understood before why the jocks gave their girlfriends their jackets until now. Lance rarely wore red, so it was a stark difference to see him all wrapped up in the red leather. It was striking. Lance looked, well, the other boy looked_ his. _“G-good.” Keith said again, clearing his throat. He sat back down on the curb, looking straight ahead at the parking lot. He chanced a glance back at Lance, shocked and delighted to see the other boy, hugging the collar of the jacket close to his face. He smiled softly, the first since Keith had found him._

_Lance sat back down, his entire demeanor softer._

_“Thanks Keith,” he said softly, scooting towards the other boy. Keith scooted in until they were shoulder to shoulder._

_“You know you can tell me whatever’s wrong right? Like, it doesn’t have to be now, just… whenever you’re ready.” Keith said. He looked over at Lance, who was looking back at him. He met the other boy’s eyes. “I’m here for you. No matter what.”_

_“I know,” Lance said, voice cracking. He turned quickly away, clearing his throat roughly. Keith frowned, but said nothing, simply wrapping an arm around Lance’s shoulders. They stayed like that until Lance’s older sister Veronica, a senior on the newspaper, texted him._

_“I should get going,” Lance sighed. Keith let his arm slide off Lance’s shoulders and down his back. Lance reached for the zipper on the jacket_ —

_“Keep it,” Keith blurted out, blushing bright red when his brain finally caught up with his mouth. “Just until you get one you like,” he amended. “You’re still not used to the weather up here and I won’t need it back for a while. I’d hate to see you get sick.”_

_Lance smiled then, small, but real. “I’ll take good care of it,” he promised._

 

Keith’s eyes opened slowly, pulling him gently from the moment. He sighed. He’d try again with Lance on Friday. There had to be a way back to that.

Friday came quickly. By the time Lance arrived in class, Keith and Pidge were already at the table. The configuration was messed up again, leaving Keith in the middle and Lance with no choice but to sit by him. He fought the urge to scream. It seemed that every class there had to be _something_ and after Wednesday— Lance had never been so frazzled. His hands had shook the entire time, leaving his notes a mess that he could hardly read.

He settled into his seat with a huff, making no effort to mask his frustration. Keith made an attempt at pleasantries, but Lance ignored him. This class was stressful enough without adding in all the drama of their past. Already he’d been having nightmares taking him back to high school and things he had worked so hard at putting behind him. Hunk was constantly on his case about his behaviour and Lance honestly didn’t know what to tell him. He appreciated the other boy’s concern more than he could ever say— be it not for Hunk, Lance honestly questioned if he would have survived Garrison High, much less have graduated. Hunk had been by his side through some of the worst moments in his life.

Unfortunately, it also meant Hunk had seen all of Lance’s evasive maneuvers. He knew just what to say to try and pry Lance open and just what to do to pull Lance out of a tailspin. It was good in a lot of ways, but it also meant Lance was getting closer and closer to spilling this entire class situation.

He hadn't yet told Hunk about Keith being in class. It hadn't been the right time yet. Lance knew that Hunk would freak out immediately, which Lance wouldn't be able to handle because he was still freaking out.

Then again, he wished he had someone to confide in with all the mess happening around him. It would definitely take some of the pressure off. He already felt like he was teetering on the edge.

The class break came sooner than he expected. Somewhere along the way he he stopped paying attention. He cursed, shaking himself out of his fog.

“Everything okay?”

Lance clenched his jaw. “Fine,” he grit out.

He said nothing for the rest of class.

When they were dismissed, Lance grabbed his notebook quickly and stepped out into the aisle. He was halfway out the door when someone tapped him on the shoulder. He jumped, whirling around and dropping his notebook— and breathed a sigh of relief when he realized it wasn't Keith behind him but the blonde girl from the table behind them.

“Sorry,” she said, leaning down to grab the notebook for him. “I was just wondering if I could copy your notes for Wednesday? Ryan and I had an ROTC event and missed class—”

“No— sorry. Just—” Lance looked back at where Keith and Pidge were looking at him and the girl, slowly making their way out the far door, Pidge all but dragging Keith out of the room. Lance barely withheld a sigh of relief. “Sorry, but my handwriting is terrible. I'd actually try and ask Pidge if you're looking for something. Her notes are really organized. Sorry.”

The girl simply nodded. “Thanks anyways,”  she said, handing him his notebook and sliding out the door. He relaxed, taking the time to put the book in his satchel before heading down the stairs. He made it out the door; barely stepping into the hall before he was cursing himself. He saw the same blonde girl, having snagged Pidge already and beside her—

“Lance, can we talk?”

“No,” Lance said, turning away. Keith's hand landed on his bicep and they both jumped away, Keith already apologizing when Lance shouted “What is your problem?”

“I'm sorry,” Keith said, raising both hands. “I shouldn't have—”

“No! You shouldn't have! Why can't you just leave me alone?”

“I don't know how!” Keith said, resignation in his voice. “I would if I could— well, maybe not. But I can't imagine a world where I'd want to.”

“How about this one? Present day, now?”

“Lance, can we just talk about this?”

“There's nothing to talk about.”

“You know that isn't true,” Keith said, taking a step towards Lance.

“It is if I want it to be!”

“Lance, we can't just ignore—”

“Can it, Kogane—”

“No! Whatever the problem is, we should talk about this! Something went wrong. We shouldn't be like, like this!”

“Then how should we be? Me letting you creep on me endlessly?”

“We should be like we were before!” Keith shouted. Lance went still, going surprisingly pale for his rich skin tone. He stumbled back.

“I-I don't know what you're talking about.” Lance said, shaking his head. “You're crazy, and I don't want to be having this conversation—”

Keith stepped forwards. “Lance, please,” he said, voice like taut wire.  He took another step towards Lance, pleading with the other boy with his eyes. Lance stumbled back again, shoulder bumping against the wall.

“Lance,” Keith said carefully, filling with nervous glee as he realized where the conversation had brought them. “I remember you.” He could hardly keep from smiling. “I, I remember _us.”_ He looked up at the other boy, sending a smile towards Lance—

Whose blue eyes were filling with tears.

“What?” Lance rasped, hands trembling at his side. Keith stepped forwards, reaching for the other boy.

“I remember,” he said again, letting the soft words ring between them. He raised a hand, brushing hesitant fingers against Lance's shoulder, only to have his hand slapped away.

“You remember?” Lance said, voice flat. He looked up at Keith, fixing the boy in place with his piercing blue eyes. Keith nodded simply. Lance choked out a high laugh. “And what? You were just hoping I would forget?”

“What? No, Lance—”

“So you just wanted to waltz right up to me and pretend you didn't just stand by as I had all sorts of abuse just _heaped_ upon me by your so-called friends? Pretend they didn't fuel four straight years of misery and just fall right back into hanging out? You wanna pretend that you didn't just leave everything, leave _me_ , and not look back? Is that what you want Kogane? Me as dumb and doe-eyed as I was back then? Who knows what you would pull if I let you?!” By this point, Lance was in hysterics, pacing back and forth in front of Keith and waving his arms around as he worked himself into a tirade. The hall was filling again as students for evening labs made their way into the building.

“Maybe we should go outside,” Keith offered hesitantly, but he was drowned out by Lance’s continued rant.

“Do you understand at all what you did? What you did to _me_ ? You abandoned me every time I needed you! You played me like a damn fiddle and I— I let you! I was so happy to just let you because I really thought we were almost something. And then… And then you left me. When things got bad, you escaped and didn't even bother to check that I was _alive,_ much less okay. And the worst thing is, that entire time, you kept pretending to care! So forgive me for not falling into your arms, but I think I've more than earned _never talking to you again._ This—” he gestured to the gathered crowd, and the circle around them— “is more attention than you deserve.” He turned to Keith then, looking the other boy in the eye.

“You are at the root of all my worst memories, Keith. And I don't know if I will _ever_ forgive you.” Lance's voice broke then, angry tears pouring hot and fast down his face. Before Keith could respond, or even process that Lance has said his first name for the very first time in years, Professor Smythe burst out of his room in a flurry.

“Physics 310!” He shouted, “Your section starts in 35 seconds and any of you not in your seats will have to write two extra pages on your next lab report!” The onlookers all moved in a flurry, pushing towards the doors and into the room. Keith lost sight of Lance. Pidge appeared at his side, gripping his arm tight and hauling him off in the shuffle.

The area cleared, revealing Lance at the end of the hall, frantically wiping his eyes, trying and failing to calm his breathing. Professor Smythe made his way down, approaching slowly. He came to rest beside Lance and silently offered up his handkerchief out of his vest pocket. Lance tried to reject the offer but Professor Smythe tutted at him.

“Come now,” he said, waving the kerchief again. “There's no shame in crying, my boy. Judging from recent events, it seems you have plenty to cry for.” Lance took the handkerchief, mopping at his eyes. “There's a good lad. Now, deep breaths. With me.”

After a minute Lance's breathing had slowed back to a healthy rate. After two, he had stopped crying altogether. He looked down at the kerchief, wincing at the combination of tears and concealer now staining the light fabric.

“Um, Professor—”

“Give it back on Monday. Meet me in my office and we'll discuss a new seating arrangement for you, hm?”

“Thank you professor,” Lance mumbled towards his feet.

“Please, call me Coran.”

“Thank you, Coran.” Lance finished, tucking the tear-soaked square into his pocket.

Coran gave him a nod. “Have a safe weekend, Mr. McClain. I'll see you Monday,” he finished. Turning and heading back to the classroom. Lance lingered in the hallways for a long minute, taking another deep breath to steady himself before turning and heading on his way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Extra sweet comments, you here? And if you can manage that then... idk scream at me a bit. Just lemme know what you think!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaaaand We're Back!!
> 
> Welcome to chapter 4, which according to my outline is really just part 2 of chapter 3, but since when have outlines ever been followed??
> 
> Anywho, welcome to Even More Angst!! or: More of Tay's usual. 
> 
> I know this one may not be making a whole lot of sense yet. it's a slow slooow fic, but bear with me. Characterization may not seem consistent, but it's an au, we aren't here to see them act like themselves. go easy on Keith. He's also having a rough time.
> 
> Then again, by the time you finish this one you may not agree with that (cue evil laughter). Either way, go easy on me. It'll fall together. It always does. With a few exceptions. Sue me.
> 
> As always, let me know in the comment or on tumblr if there are any addition trigger/content warnings i need to add. We're here to hurt, just not ourselves.
> 
> besos from this girl with no pesos,  
> ~Tay

On the other side of the building, Pidge and Keith were dashing towards an exit. Once they were outside, Pidge turned to Keith.

“What the hell just happened?” Pidge hissed. Keith could only gape at her. He had no idea. One second he’d been ready and excited to remind Lance of their shared past and maybe resurrect what they'd lost; and the next Lance was having a conniption in the hallway. Keith had listened to every word, heart breaking piece by piece as it became clear that he and Lance had very different ideas of what their time at Garrison had meant. 

“I- I don't really know,” Keith answered. She narrowed her eyes at him. 

“Keith, you're an oblivious disaster on the best of days, but that kind of anger doesn't come from nowhere—”

“I know,” Keith groaned. 

“You guys haven't seen each other in two years and he was yelling at you like you kicked his dog yesterday—”

“I know, ok? I know!” he shouted taking off down the building steps. Pidge followed after him. 

“So what the hell is actually going on? You aren't like, obsessed with this guy, are you?”

“No, we were close. I promise we were,” but as Keith said it, he began to doubt. Had they been? At the time everything had felt so real, but now it seemed he couldn't even trust his memories. He slowed to a stop. Pidge came to rest beside him and laid a hand on his arm. 

“I trust you Keith, I do. You're one of my best friends. But you've gotta understand, I'm pretty shaken by all this. I just wanna know what's going on.”

Keith choked out a laugh. “Well, that makes two of us.” 

He looked over at Pidge, who returned his wry smile. Before he could say anything else, Keith felt a raindrop on his arm, followed by another on his head. Soon, it was raining in earnest. Pidge groaned and held a hand over her eyes. She took off, walking fast towards their dorm. They made it halfway there before the overcast sky opened up, dropping a torrential downpour over campus. 

Pidge shouted a curse into the downpour, reaching out for Keith. He took her hand and together they took off, running at a breakneck pace through the thick sheets of rain. By the time they made it to their building, they were both soaked yet laughing hysterically; the sheer unpredictability of the day catching up with them. 

They stood in the hall, dripping onto the carpet as their laughter died. 

“You know, I'm not really feeling a dining hall right now,” Pidge said, turning towards the stairs. “Wanna order in? We can drown your woes in pizza and the hard cider I totally don't have hidden in my closet.”

“Where did you even get that?” Keith asked. 

“Matt,” Pidge answered simply. Keith rolled his eyes but nodded. He walked Pidge to her door. 

“Go shower and warm up,” she said. “Text me when you're done.”

“See you soon, Rattata,” Keith said. Pidge rolled her eyes at the nickname, but took it for the hint that it was. Keith needed the familiar close right now. 

“In a bit, Red,” she replied, before sliding into her room and closing the door. 

Keith made it to his single, and immediately stripped out of his wet clothes. He laid them around the bathroom to dry and turned on the shower. He stepped in with a sigh, but the noise quickly turned into a frustrated groan. All alone, it was all too easy for Lance's words, nay, accusations, to come flooding back. He'd never seen Lance so angry and had certainly never been on the receiving end of said rage. 

Keith thrust his head into the spray, hot water beating down his face. The look on Lance’s face as Keith had confessed was plastered behind his eyes. The combination of rage and disgust, the tears slowly welling in his water line— Keith shook himself. He would get to the bottom of this. He would find Lance and they would talk and everything would get better. It’d take time, but he’d put in the work and Lance would forgive him for whatever he’d done wrong. He just had to show Lance he truly cared. 

Keith sighed. He sounded crazy. Maybe he _had_ been obsessing a bit. He hadn’t even really talked to Lance since getting to college and he’d just sprung all this unwelcome sentiment on the other boy. He wouldn’t blame Lance for making good on that threat to never speak to him again.

‘But I can’t let that happen,’ Keith thought.

He finished his shower quickly, trying and failing to avoid thoughts of Lance as he dressed in pajamas and went down to Pidge’s room. He knocked, idling in the hall before knocking again. She came to the door dripping, still wrapped in a towel. Nevertheless, she let him in. He sat at the desk, looking silently at her colorful array of stimming aids while she shuffled about the room, getting dressed.

“Ok I’m good,” she said, turning to face Keith and scrubbing a towel through her hair. She looked him over briefly, a frown tilting her lips. “You’re not holding up that well, are you?”

Keith clenched his jaw and shook his head. Pidge sighed, crossing to her bed and pulling the covers off, scattering them on the floor. Keith sunk wordlessly to the ground, snagging half the blanket for himself and sitting on a pillow.

“I can’t stop thinking about him,” he said.

“Well duh,” Pidge scoffed. “We’re here to think about him, Keith.”

“Yeah, but I— I don’t know this version of him and I want to but he rather obviously doesn’t want that. And I don’t know what I want— well that’s not true, I want _him_ but I don’t— I don’t know him anymore! And that’s terrifying. We used to know each other so well—”

“Keith, breathe,” Pidge ordered, startling him with a hand on his knee. “Take your time. Nyma isn’t gonna be back tonight so we can take all night if we need to.” She leaned back. “Which is good, because you need to take a breath and slow down.”

Keith nodded, reaching back for his water bottle only to startle when he realized he'd forgotten it. Pidge rolled her eyes.

“Go back to your room and hydrate. Imma order the pizza. The Usual? Or should we do something special for tonight? You know what? It’ll be a surprise. Now scoot.”

Keith nodded, going back to his room and grabbing his water bottle from his backpack. It was covered in stickers, old ones, worn ones, a myriad of colors and mementos collected over the years. He rubbed his thumb over one, a blue camera with a star at the flash, face tightening as a flood of memories pushed to the front of his brain. 

 

_The crowd was deafening as the Lions scored again. The cheerleaders rushed forwards, already bopping to the marching band as the fight song played again. Lotor and Sendak were hooting and hollering at the girls, spilling popcorn everywhere as they jumped around._

_Keith sat sullenly on the bleachers, tugging his jacket tight around him._

_“Stand up, Kogane!” Lotor shouted, grabbing a handful of Keith’s jacket and tugging harshly._

_“Leave him,” Sendak said. “They’re dancing again!”_

_“What’s wrong, Keith?” Hapta said, dropping down beside him. “Don’t like cheerleaders?”_  
  _“Nah,” Lotor said. “Little prick’s more interested in his dumb space club than anyone around him. If it weren’t for us, he’d never go anywhere.”_

_“If it weren’t for you, I’d be home already,” Keith snapped._

_Lotor scowled, cuffing Keith on the back of the head._

_“You think I like toting you around like some damn soccer mom? If our moms weren’t friends you’d be walking home every day. The least you can do is thank me for letting you be seen in public with us.”_

_“I’ll pass,” Keith said, standing. He pushed past Hapta, heading towards the stairs._

_“Hey Kogane!” Lotor yelled. “You better find me after or you’ll walk home!” But Keith kept pushing away through the crowd, ignoring Lotor as he made his way down in front of the marching band. He leaned against the railing, looking out onto the field._

_The cheerleaders were still going, shouting call and response cheers with the roaring crowd. The game was on pause, the other team having taken a time out to try and strategize despite what was turning into a decisive loss. On the Lions’ side, the players were gathered around the coaches, all of whom seemed to be pointing at something. One of the waterboys was running back and forth across the track, delivering water bottles and towels. Further down on the track was—_

_Keith smiled, watching as Lance lowered his camera, looking at the viewscreen before raising it again to take another photo. This one apparently satisfied him and he walked back down the track, snapping photos as he went. Keith watched, rapt, as Lance floated around the event, taking photos and checking them. The game started again and the cheerleaders kept going but Keith’s attention stayed on Lance._

_When half-time finally rolled around, he fought through the crowd surging towards the concession stand, making his way down to the fence at the edge of the track._

_“Lance!” he called waving at the other boy. He shouted again, louder, and Lance looked up from his camera, looking for the source of the voice. Keith waved, shouting again, and Lance’s eyes landed on him. He grinned, raising his camera again. The flash went off and Keith froze, cheeks heating. It went off again and he ducked his head, looking away and resisting the urge to pull up his hood. He heard a giggle from nearby and looked up to see Lance walking towards him, eyes on his camera’s viewscreen. He looked up again, eyes full of mischief as they met Keith's. He raised a finger, eyebrow shifting in question as he asked for one more. Keith rolled his eyes but stood still, hands in his jacket pocket as Lance snapped one last photo. He looked down at the view screen and smiled, trotting over to the fence and letting the camera hang against his chest._

_“You’re really photogenic, you know,” he said with a smile, leaning against the fence separating the track from the crowds. Keith blushed again, not sure what to say to that. Lance only chuckled. “No problem with pretty, Keith.”_

_“You just say that because you try for pretty,” Keith said, leaning an elbow on the fence beside Lance’s. Lance scowled._

_“There’s nothing wrong with liking the way I look,” he said._

_“I know. I like the way you look too,” Keith said, going still as he realized what he’d just said. “I-I mean in an objective sense.” Lance gave him a smirk, though in the bright stadium light the blush forming on his cheeks was all the more obvious._

_“You think I’m pretty,” Lance stated, leaning close, eyes full of mischief. Keith’s eyes went wide as he found them nose to nose. He leaned back a bit, looking away as he stammered out some sort of agreement._

_Lance grinned, leaning back to hang off the fence._

_“Maybe I should let you take some photos of me,” he said with a wink. Keith’s eyes went wide as his head filled with the idea: Lance on display, posing just for him. He hadn’t spent much time behind a camera but he could certainly learn. What would he even want to document? He had to get those lips— the way they curved into a smile or tilted into a smirk. Or Lance’s eyes, always dancing in the light._

_Keith felt himself smile on accident and let his eyes drift over Lance’s body. The other boy definitely noticed. By the time Keith made it up to his face he was biting his lower lip, blushing shyly._

_Keith leaned close against the fence and caught Lance’s eyes._

_“I think that could be fun,” he said lowly, surprising even himself with his tone. Lance’s eyes widened momentarily before they relaxed, a mischievous grin curving those full lips._

_Lance opened his mouth to speak but before he could, the marching band started up. He whirled around, groaning._

_“I’ve gotta take photos of this,” he said, turning to Keith with a pout. “But I should be back for the end of halftime.”_

_“I’ll be here,” Keith said. Lance smiled, trotting away with a wave. Keith watched as the band marched and Lance ran around on the sidelines with the camera. Halfway through the performance, he started to sweat and, on a whim, Keith went over to the concession stand, sliding in the back of the line. It moved slowly, but halftime was still going and he could hear the band playing on the field. He’d be back in plenty of time to meet Lance—_

_“So this is where you got off to, Keithy,” Sendak said, sliding an arm around Keith’s shoulders, slipping himself and Lotor in line behind him, cutting in front of the girls who would have been next._

_“What do you guys want? Don’t you have cheerleaders to ogle?”_

_“They’re on a break in the locker rooms. The band geeks are out on the field now,” Lotor said with a fake yawn._

_“And what you aren’t gonna text Allura all through her break?” Keith teased, pulling out from under Sendak’s arm. Lotor cuffed him on the back of the head._

_“Coach takes their phones during the game. Besides, why does it matter? You’re not lookin’ at my girl are you?”_

_“Oh she’s yours now?”_

_“Watch it Kogane,” Lotor growled, grabbing the back of his jacket in a fist. Beside them Sendak laughed._

_“Seriously Lotor? He’s a year beneath us and Allura barely knows he’s alive. Let him fantasize. It’s probably good for him.”_

_“I’m not fantasizing about Allura!” Keith snapped, too loudly considering the looks he got. Lotor smirked, releasing his jacket and smoothing out the wrinkles he’d caused. He leaned in close, slipping an arm around Keith’s shoulder and trapping the boy between himself and Sendak._

_“No, that’s right. Too busy looking at your little photo nerd, huh?” Lotor sneered. Keith clenched his jaw, turning his face away. Lotor only chuckled. “I’m sure if you asked he’d send you some nice little pictures of himself—”_

_“Don’t talk about him like that,” Keith growled, trying to fight the blush on his cheeks. It didn’t work._

_“No? Look at your face! Or is that only_ you _can think about him like that. But seriously Keith, you’re a growing boy. You’ve gotta be fantasizing about something—” Lotor’s hand tightened on Keith’s shoulder. “— And if it’s not a piece like Allura, well—”_

_“Next!”_

_Keith was jolted back to the present, happy to escape forwards and order a coke for himself and a cherry soda like Lance would always get from the vending machine._

_“Extra thirsty tonight, Kogane?” Sendak teased._

_Keith said nothing, paying and quickly heading away with his drinks. He felt a strange sort of shame simmering in his gut. As long as he’d known Lotor, he’d always been teased by him about just random things— his hair, his clothes, anything was fair game and had been for years. But somewhere along the line Lotor had gotten so observant, his barbs more pointed, wiggling beneath Keith's skin and getting to the heart of the issue. Like the barb with the photos—_

_Keith blushed again, unable to stop his brain from conjuring Lance’s eyes, his lips, the way his legs look in skinny jeans— and then Lotor’s face flashed in his mind. The too knowing eyes, the smug turn of his lips. It was dirty. There was no other way to describe it: his thoughts about Lance were wrong and Lotor was picking up on them. He just had to keep these feelings, whatever they were, under control._

_He made his way back to the fence, setting the drinks on the ground and leaning against the cool metal. He watched as the marching band finished. The moms in the audience clapped politely and some of the students yelled things for their friends. They moved and began to march off the field, and the cheerleaders ran back out, waving their pom poms at the crowd as they trotted by. Keith looked at them,_ really _looked at them, and remembered the things Lotor would always point out— hips and waists and the flare of skirt against thigh— but he didn’t feel anything. He looked at Allura. She was pretty, he knew that, but he didn’t want her; not like Lotor did. Was he supposed to? Was he even supposed to be thinking about this? And what did it mean if he wasn’t—_

_“Wow, you’ve really got something on your mind,” a familiar voice said, jolting Keith out of his reverie and drawing his attention up. Lance was back, a breathless smile on his face, one hand resting on his camera. Lance leaned against the fence next to Keith, nudging their elbows together._

_“Penny for your thoughts?”  He asked, tilting his head to the side and examining Keith._

_Keith blanched, eyes going wide as those same images of Lance flashed in his mind; this time in confusing contradiction to Allura. He shook himself, leaning back from the fence._

_“Nothing,” he lied. “Just tired I guess.” He tried to give Lance a smile, but the other boy's eyes narrowed, clearly not believing him. Nonetheless, Lance shrugged._

_“Alright,” he said, though he continued to look Keith over._

_“I— I bought you this,” Keith said, ducking down to grab the cherry soda. He all but shoved it at Lance, eager to divert his attention. Lance grinned and Keith all but sighed in relief._

_“Oh thanks, I needed this,” he said, opening the bottle and taking an eager swig._

_“I figured. It looks like hard work out there. You were running around almost a much as the band was.” Behind them, the game had resumed, but Keith couldn’t take his eyes from the bob of Lance’s adam's apple as he swallowed. He pulled away, wiping at his lips (which were already staining red from the soda) and nodded, looking shyly down at the ground._

_“This is the first campus event I’ve shot on my own. This is even the teacher’s camera. I just… I just wanna do it right.”_

_“I’m sure you’ll do fine,” Keith said softly. Lance looked up at him, eyes skeptical. Keith shrugged. “You’re already trying so hard, I’m sure something’s gotta come from it.”_

_Something in Lance’s eyes changed, and he smiled, soft at first, then mischievous._

_“Maybe I’ll get good enough to teach you some day,” he teased. Keith smiled, leaning back against the fence._

_“Maybe,” he agreed._

_“Oh!” Lance said, straightening up quickly. He ran his hands over his body, searching his pockets, before reaching into one of the ones on his jacket. “Here,” he said, holding out a sticker. It was a camera, cobalt blue with a shiny gold star over the flash. “You can hold onto this! As a reminder. And then one day we can—”_

_“Hey Lance!”_

_They both turned to look and Keith nearly choked when he saw Allura trotting towards them._

_“We’re running some new stunts next song and Romelle wants you to take some more photos of us? Is that okay?”_

_“Sure! I’ll be right over.”_

_“Thanks Lance!” Allura said, trotting back over to the others. Keith watched her go, again searching for the right answer and missing it. He turned back to Lance, who grabbed his hand and pressed the sticker into it._

_“I’ll find you after the game, okay?” he said with a smile before trotting off after Allura. Keith looked down at the sticker laying flat on his palm, a small smile curving his lips, and shook his head. It was such a Lance gesture. Nevertheless, he opened his leather jacket, sliding the sticker into the safety of his inside pocket, before zipping it back up._

_He leaned back against the fence, looking down towards the cheerleaders, who were now doing their new routine, and moving with them, Lance._ _Somewhere past him, the cheerleaders finished and the crowd cheered, the roar, growing deafening as the team made a play behind them. But even with the deafening roar, nothing could distract him from—_

 

Keith shook himself, looking down at the sticker, slightly worn around the edges, but shining up at him nonetheless. Keith clenched his jaw, taking one deep breath and then another, trying to reign in the flood of emotions before heading back to Pidge’s room. When that didn’t work, he left his room anyways, going back to hers. He entered without knocking, settling back on the floor beside her.

“Ok, pizza is ordered and it looks like it’s a slow night because our delivery time is in like twenty— Jesus, Keith, what happened?” She said, freezing as she looked up at him. He’d briefly worried that he looked as shitty as he felt, and apparently that fear had been valid. Pidge scooted close, gently laying a hand on his knee and squeezing. “Seriously Keith, you look like you saw a ghost.”

Keith couldn’t help but laugh, a wry choked sound that did nothing to ease Pidge’s worry.

“Yeah, you could say that,” he said, looking down at the water bottle still in his hands and thumbing over the camera sticker. Pidge saw the action and sighed.

“Ok, well to start, I’m gonna take this—” she tugged the water bottle gently out of Keith's hands, stopping his thumb’s nervous trek  “— and you're gonna take this.” She replaced it with a cider, and nodded. “And we’re gonna start at the beginning.” 

“The beginning doesn’t matter anymore,” Keith said, taking a sip of the cider. “Whatever we had at the start is apparently long gone.”

“But not for you, Keith.”

“Then maybe I should let it be. I mean, Lance obviously hates me. He isn’t gonna thank me for pursuing him. I should just give up.”

“Well do you want to?” 

“What?” 

Pidge shrugged. “Do you want to give up on him? Cause if so, that makes tonight kinda moot, but hey, there’ll still be pizza.”

“No, I— I don’t— I don’t want to give up him.”

“Then don’t pretend you do,” Pidge said firmly. “Because from the sound of it, that’s what he already thinks happened. You’d only be proving him right when you both deserve better.”

“Then what do I do?”

“You get to the bottom of it! Why would he think you didn’t care for him when you so obviously did? You still do. And he remembers you too, which means you made an impact." She paused, watching Keith as his jaw worked restlessly before speaking again.

"So what ruined it?”

Keith looked again at the sticker, frowning as Lotor’s wry comments rang in his ears.

“We got picked on a lot,” he said. “And.. and most of it came from some guys who claimed to be my friends— and I know now, they weren’t. Shiro saw it immediately, that’s why he pulled me out, but… but they were all I had. And if it hadn’t been them, it would’ve been someone else so… So I just let it happen.”

“Let it happen to you? Or let it happen to Lance?”

“To me. At first. I mean, it was just me in the beginning. Sometimes they would pick on Lance, but always with me around so I could see— you could tell it was still just to get at me.”

“So what did you do?”

“What could I do? Lotor was one of my only friends.”

“But it doesn’t sound like he was a very good one.”

“Well, that didn’t seem to matter at the time,” Keith snapped. “I met Lotor when I was twelve when Sanda took me in. She was best friends with his mom and, whenever she had to go out on business or her and her husband went on trips, it was Honerva and Zarkon who took care of me. I spent as much time in his house as mine. Lotor was always there and he didn’t mind this kid hanging around so I just did, okay?” Keith's voice cracked at the end, and he turned away from Pidge, eyes stinging. Pidge said nothing, simply giving Keith time to get himself together.

When he spoke again, his voice was rough.

“It sounds stupid, especially with hindsight being 20/20 and all, but Lotor was like, the closest thing I had to a brother before Shiro came into my life. I figured that all the dumb shit he would say was just a part of that. Kids don’t always have great siblings, but they’re still yours, you know? I thought it just came with the territory.”

“So, then what was it like at school? If Lotor was like a brother to you?”

“He looked out for me. I mean, I was still an awkward mess when _you_ got me. Imagine me freshman year.” Pidge made a small sound. “I was easy pickings, especially for some of the other jocks, but Lotor was really good at baseball and his friend Sendak was pretty big already and  a wrestler so they just sorta looked after me. I got beat up after school once freshman fall and they just went after the guys immediately. It was kinda badass, actually,” he said with a wry chuckle. “And sure, you aren’t supposed to like that stuff, but I didn’t know better. I got beat up all the time in middle school. It was Lotor who taught me to fight back, and then in high school he was there to help me do it.”

Pidge hummed thoughtfully.

“Don’t get me wrong,” she started. “The Lotor stuff, in some way, makes sense. I don’t like it, but I get it. What I’m not getting is, where does Lance come into this? I mean, you and Lotor are a big part of the equation but—”

Her phone started to ring and she grabbed it immediately. 

“Hello? Yes, thank you. Be right down,” she said, hanging up and standing. “That’s pizza. I’ll be right back.”

She dashed out the door, leaving Keith alone in the quiet of the room. His thoughts went back to Lotor, intertwining with his memories of Lance. When he first got into high school, Lotor had mostly left him alone, giving him a chance to form relationships on his own but that hadn't gone well. Keith had ended up clinging to Lotor and his group for that familiar safety and they had welcomed him. Were they good kids? Not really. But they weren't failing any classes and only got in fights with guys who deserved it so they never really thought about it. 

Then, middle of first semester, there had been a new kid and Keith was no longer the oddest freshman— 

“Ok!” Pidge said, coming back into the room and sinking to the floor, arms laden with pizza. “Let's chow down and you can stop whatever angst train your brain was just on—”

“I was not on an angst train,” Keith denied. 

“Doubt that,” Pidge said, already opening a box and grabbing a slice. 

“How much pizza did you get?” Keith asked, looking between the two boxes. 

“One for each of us, just this place’s mediums are huge, so eat up.”

Keith grabbed a slice from his own pizza and they ate in silence for a bit, thoughts still swirling in his head. 

“So tell me more about you and Lance,” Pidge said, grabbing her cider and leaning close. 

“What's there to say?”

“What isn't there?” Pidge countered. “Lotor was important to you, and Lotor was first, but Lance is important too. How did that end up working out? The two of them?”

Keith chewed quietly, thinking about the tense moments when all of them interacted.

“They didn't get along,” Keith started. “There was always an awkwardness there. They— I think Lotor thought Lance was playing with me.”

“Did you think that?”

“No, of course not! Lance was always really genuine with me—”

“Were you with him?” 

“I tried to be.”

“Well how did that go?”

“It— it was fine. I mean, I don't think anyone is as open as Lance is, or, I guess was, but I was myself with him and he— and that was—  I didn't have to pretend to be something I wasn't. I was enough for him.”

“When were you pretending to be something you weren't?”

“I… with Lotor I guess. Not that I was faking but… they were really into sports and girls and I wasn't— for now obvious reasons— but I would get really defensive about stuff. They'd call me a sissy if I didn't come work out with them or tease me about not being interested in anybody—”

“But you were interested in somebody. You were interested in Lance.”

“I know that now, but at the time it wasn't as clear or-or as easy.”

“What wasn't?”

“I couldn't just _be_ into Lance. It didn't work like that.”

“Why not?”

“It wasn't— it just wasn't something I could do, okay?”

“Did you know anybody else who was gay?” Pidge asked. Keith shook his head. “Keith, did Lotor ever make you feel bad for liking Lance? Did he find out and tease you about it?”

“No!” Keith blurted, shaking his head and looking down at his pizza. “I mean, not… not like you're thinking.”

“Well, what am I thinking?”

“You think Lotor saw me looking at Lance and shoved me into lockers or called me a fag and he didn't. He would rib me about it, but he would've made fun of me for any crush, even on a girl. He would hang around with us, pull pranks and stuff but it was all just annoying big brother shit. Just sometimes it got out of hand and then I'd talk to him about it and then we'd be chill for a bit”

“Then what?”

“Then we would do it again.”

“The fight that Shiro saw you in when you met. Was that with Lotor?” Keith nodded. “About Lance,” she stated. He nodded again. 

“Lotor had gone too far. It— it was mean. Cruel. And then he pretended it didn't even matter—” he cut himself off, fists clenched in his lap. He ground his teeth together, looking away from Pidge.

“Keith?” she probed carefully. He shook his head. “Keith,” she said again, somehow softer. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No, I— I don’t want to talk about it. Talking about it doesn’t- doesn’t do anything so—”

“This is obviously bothering you.”

He was silent for a moment, before glancing at Pidge. He picked up his cider and emptied it quickly, huffing out a breath when he was finished.

“This one day towards the end of freshman year… Lance came to school with this new little scarf. His aunt was in town and she’d bought it for him on one of her trips and he— he looked great in it, but he looked… Lance always had a particular way of dressing. A good way, don’t get me wrong, but definitely not like other guys in Tennessee. Between that and his accent he just presented like- like a fairy— their words, not mine. But he didn’t care. He never cared what anyone thought. I pretended not to, but he— he was honest in everything he did no matter what. He joined yearbook even though it was girly. He wore skinny jeans even though it made the jocks yell things at him. He even painted his nails. He was fearless in all the ways I wasn’t and—” he stopped, looking down at his fists where they were clenched in his lap. “And Lotor and his friends didn’t like that much. Freshman year Lance would always sass them back. He didn’t take shit. But then by the time we got to sophomore year he was… timid again. They really scared him. 

“And I let them. I saw what was going on and thought it was another one of Lotor’s stupid traps and though ‘if I just get out of here, they’ll leave too and it’ll all be okay. _He’ll_ be okay.” So I did. They had Lance tied up by his scarf on the locker room floor and— and I left. I said it was all lame and walked out and his eyes, his fucking _eyes—_  

“And when I tried to sneak away after and get him Lotor wouldn’t let me. He threatened to leave me at school, which meant I’d have to walk home, which meant I wouldn’t get home till after dark and the last time that happened Sanda was— she—” he took a shuddering breath, grabbing a bottle cap from the carpet and turning it over in his hands. As he continued, he simply followed the metal circle with his eyes. “When… when we came back after that weekend, he would barely talk to me. Things just got worse from there and… and when school let out we didn’t really talk over the summer. Things worked out okay for sophomore year, but Lance was different. He dressed less like himself. He fit in more I guess, and in a way it made some things easier, but I- I missed the original us.”

And it had been his own fault for losing it. It all seemed so stupid now. How hadn’t he recognized his weird feelings towards Lotor as fear until now? And if he’d been as scared as he was, how hadn’t he thought all of that was ten times worse for Lance? Lotor was a good friend to a point, but somewhere along the line, everything got turned around. 

They had been close in middle school, but the year they'd spent apart, that time when Lotor went off to Garrison High while Keith was still in eighth grade, had changed him. Lotor had hardened somehow. Everything in his demeanor became sharper: his jibes more pointed, his opinions more cutting. Nothing Keith said or did was enough anymore and he didn’t know how to return to that. He was used to being… less than. But Lotor had never made him feel lesser or unworthy; not the way he’d felt in various homes— even in Sanda’s home. Even when Lotor was awful to him— which was possibly more often than he cared to think about— he’d always seen worse, survived worse. Lotor had never ever registered as a part of the bad in his life.

Until high school. Somehow, that one year had changed everything— _ruined_ everything. And he was still bound to it, the moments in his past that, apparently, would never let him go. Even the things he’d once thought of as good were tainted. 

Keith scowled and took an angry swig of his drink. “It didn’t matter though. None of this matters, Pidge. Lotor is in the past. He isn’t even one of the worst things that’s happened me, so why do I have to give him this much attention? I’m tired of—” he stopped, lowering his voice as he realized he was yelling. “I’m tired of having to think about all the people that fucked me up. The damage is done and that’s just how it goes. It doesn’t matter what Lotor did.”

Pidge was quiet for a moment, before shaking her head.

“It _does_ matter Keith; for both you and Lance—”

“Well there’s nothing I can do about it, Pidge! I can’t just pull Lotor’s bullshit out of our timeline. I can’t— I can’t—” Keith’s voice cracked and he pulled his knees to his chest, resting his forehead atop them. Pidge simply scooted beside him, laying and arm around his shuddering shoulders as the night continued around them. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise I know what I'm doing. Honest, I do. Nevertheless, leave your doubts (or praises) in the comments below or message me on [tumblr](https://profoundprincessface.tumblr.com/). Also, consider funding my fic habit via [ko-fi](https://ko-fi.com/A1751V8Y) Or supporting me on [patreon](https://www.patreon.com/user?u=16367220) to fund my habit and get rewarded with preview for existing and upcoming projects!
> 
> xoxo  
> ~Tay


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey lovelies,
> 
> Life is hard so y'all gotta be extra sweet to me in the comments this chap, ok? Ok.
> 
> Back to this beautiful angst!! Switching to Lance's pov, and bringing in new characters! More angst ahead-- it's gonna get better eventually, I promise-- but until then, we get some more angsty flashbacks and all that fun.
> 
> Please pay attention to the updated tags and, as always, let me know if there any addition content/trigger warnings I need to add!
> 
> besos from space-os!  
> ♡Tay

Lance barely noticed as it began to rain on campus. He barely noticed campus. By the time the sky opened up and it truly began to pour, he was firmly locked within his own mind, simultaneously reeling from and drained by the events of the past thirty minutes. Not twenty minutes ago he was yelling at Keith— a person he'd tried not speak to or even to think about, much less yell at— and three minutes later he was crying in the hallway in front of one of his professors. They hadn’t even made it to midterms. Now, he was ambling through campus towards his dorm in the rain. 

Honestly, the entire thing was a little dramatic. 

He couldn’t help wondering how this would have all changed had he told Hunk what was going on or just asked Professor Smythe for a different table. Then he might not have even confronted Keith. Or, even if he had, Hunk would have known and he could have at least ranted about this. Then he would have never exploded like he had in the hall—

“Look out!” a voice yelled. In a second Lance was hitting the ground, skidding across the wet sidewalk. He sat up gingerly, one hand reaching to grip a sore shoulder as the other supported him. He looked around, sliding his hand back to reach for his bag. He was glad he’d left his laptop home today, as the combination of the rain and the fall could have sent him to the repair shop (or begging on hands and knees at Hunk’s side).

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I braked too slow and with how wet it is— Are you okay?” A slender brown hand appeared in front of Lance’s face. On instinct, he reached for it, looking up at the stranger and freezing as he met familiar sky blue eyes. He recoiled, pulling his hand to his chest as Allura Lyon stared down at him— 

 

_The football game ended and everyone on the home side cheered their victory. Lance smiled as he looked through his camera at the exuberant cheerleaders waving their pom-poms in the air as the excited crowd stood in the stands. He took an endless stream of photos as the two teams lined up for handshakes. When the teams finished, people began to disperse, families and students coming down to the fence and waving to players as they ran back to the locker rooms._

_Lance finally let his camera fall back to his chest as he walked along the track to his camera bag. Keith was leaning against the fence behind his stuff. Lance waved and Keith waved back. He trotted over, kneeling on the track and pulling the zippered bag to him. Keith leaned against the fence, asking Lance how it was to shoot his first game while Lance packed up the camera._

_“It was really fun!” Lance said, shouldering his bag and walking along the fence to the gate. Keith echoed him on the other side, fingers trailing noisily along the chain-link as they rounded the track towards the crowd._

_“Kogane!” a familiar voice yelled. Lance’s gazed flicked to Keith, catching the moment his smile fell and his jaw hardened. He looked over to Lance, giving him a smile Lance assumed was meant to be reassuring— or perhaps apologetic, as Keith pulled up his hood and squared his shoulders._

_“What?” he called back as they drew near Lotor. The baseball player was leaned against the fence, Sendak and Hapta throwing popcorn to each other and under his arm, his baseball jacket thrown around her shoulders—_

 

“Lance?” Allura said, a smile tugging at her full lips. “Oh my god, I knew you came to Altea but—” 

“Leave me alone,” Lance said, scrambling to his feet and backing away from Allura. He blanched. “I’m sorry, just— I’m fine. I’m okay. I’m gonna— I gotta get to South Campus.” He whirled around, clutching his wet bag to his chest. He turned back to Allura, looking her in the face for just a moment before averting his eyes. “Which way is South Campus? I- I think I’m lost, can you just— can you just point me in the right direction? I’ll walk back, I just… I just don’t know where to go.”

“Lance,” Allura said gently, trying and failing to coax the other boy to look at her. She sighed. “This is East Campus. The very top of East Campus. It’s at least a twenty minute walk through Center to South and it’s _pouring._ Why don’t you wait out the rain at my dorm? We’re like a hundred yards away and—”

“No. Thank you, but no—”

“Lance, come on. It’s not that far and you- you’re in no shape to be wandering around like this. Just come dry off. You… you don’t even have to talk to me if you don’t want.”

Lance sniffled, wiping his nose uselessly in the rain. He nodded and Allura said something he didn’t hear, grabbing her bike and starting to walk, waiting for him to catch up with her. 

She led them through the rain to a tall building, rolling her bike inside and onto the elevator with them. They both began to shiver in the air conditioning, their soaked clothes clinging to them and raising goosebumps over their whole bodies.

“Ok,” Allura said, letting them into the dorm and sliding her bike against a wall. “So there’s a communal bathroom at the end of the hall if you wanna rinse off to warm up. You’re taller than me but still pretty skinny, so I should have some stuff you can wear after if you wanna throw your clothes in the dryer downstairs. That sound okay? Lance?” She turned around, finding him standing listlessly in the doorway, staring around the simple common room. She tugged him in, sitting him on a wooden desk chair and instructing him to take off his shoes while she went for towels and clothes for them. She came back in her own robe and handed Lance a bundle including a clean towel and pajamas, as well as a bottle of shower gel.

“It’s lavender,” Allura explained. “I use it on bad days and well… yeah.” Lance took the stuff with a muttered thanks. “Don’t worry about it. And I texted Romelle, she said you can wear her shower togs if you want them. They’re by her bedroom door.—” Allura pointed to the door to the right. “— I’m gonna go ahead.” With that she left the room, leaving Lance alone with his cluttered thoughts. With nothing else to do, he stood and began to undress, draping his wet clothes over the chair and wrapping the towel around his waist. He crossed to Romelle’s door and slipped his feet into the slightly-too-small flip flops before grabbing the clothes and shower gel and heading down the hall. When he got to the bathroom, Allura was already in a shower, humming to herself as steam poured over the opaque stall door.

Lance turned on the water in a stall, hanging the clothes on the hook outside, and stepped in. He threw the towel over the door and stepped into the spray, letting the hot water sluice over him and slowly re-awaken his frozen limbs. When he emerged twenty minutes later, he felt significantly closer to human, although the clutter in his brain had barely receded.

He made his way back to Allura’s dorm, thanking her for the shower gel and the clothes and accepting the cup of tea she offered.They sat awkwardly in the little common area, Lance taking the corner of the couch and Allura taking a lilac bean-bag chair. They sipped their tea in silence, before Allura finally asked what type of music Lance liked. He said anything but country and she laughed, before heading to a little record player in the corner.

“Romelle collects these,” she said, raising one of the vinyl records. “She mostly keeps classical, but I’ve convinced her to add some stuff with lyrics.” Simon and Garfunkel began to play from the little speakers, filling the room with warmth. Lance sipped his tea, simply watching as Allura went and poured herself another cup, sweetening it with cream and sugar before returning. She pulled her bean-bag closer to the couch and put her mug on the little coffee table.

“Do you need to call anyone to let them know you’re here? Or check the shuttle schedules?”

“My phone is dead.” Lance said plainly. 

“Oh.” An awkward pause. “I have a charger you can borrow,” she said, rising yet again.

“You don’t have to—”

“It’s no problem!’ she called, already rummaging in what Lance assumed was her bedroom. She came back and plugged the charger in, offering a hand for the phone. Lance rose quietly, crossing to his bag and swearing as he looked at it’s soaked content. Allura came over, accepting the phone Lance passed her before coming and sitting on the ground, helping him lay out his few books to dry. Afterwards, they sat on the floor with “Scarborough Fair” playing softly in the background. The song ended, the gap between it and the next song filled with fuzz before the next one began to play.

“Hey Lance?” Allura asked quietly.

“What?” he said, hating how dead his own voice sounded, even to his own ears.

“I… I know this is probably not the time but, I just wanted to apologize for everything that went down back at Garrison—”

“You don’t have to do that.” 

“No, I believe I do. I realized eventually what a dick Lotor was. Honestly, I probably knew from the beginning; but throughout, I saw the way he treated you and Keith and said nothing—”

“Please stop,” Lance pleaded, sitting up by his bag.

“But Lance—”

“Please, just—”

 

_“Stop that!” Lance said, rushing forwards and pushing at Lotor, who had Keith in a hold under his arm. Lotor raised an eyebrow as Lance shoved at him._

_“Looks like your little boy wants to play hero, Kogane,” Lotor sneered, fisting a hand in Keith’s hair. “What does our Lady of the Lake say? Does our—” he tugged Keith’s head back by his hair, “— long-haired damsel get rescued by his prince?” Lotor turned and looked back at Allura, who was leaning with Sendak, and another cheerleader, gossiping against the fence._

_“Lotor!” Lance shouted, hitting at his arm._

_“Shut up!” Lotor snapped, turning himself and Keith towards Allura. Hapta chuckled at Lance, throwing popcorn at the boy as he watched the entire thing unfold._

_“Are all you sophomores jerks?” Lance asked aloud, trotting after them._

_“Go home, Lance!” Keith yelled, elbowing Lotor. They scuffled again, Allura rolling her eyes from her perch._

_“Are you idiots done?” she called, tittering with her friends._

_“Oh, fair Lady of the Lake,” Lotor called, dipping himself and Keith into a ridiculous bow. “What say ye of these vagrants?”_

_“Wow, Lotor. Sure you aren't a theatre nerd in disguise?” she asked with a tilt of her head. Lotor frowned, pushing Keith away and stepping over to Allura._

_“Was that an insult? Or a veiled plea to see all this in tights?” he joked, though his voice stayed cold throughout. Allura only laughed and rolled her eyes, hitting his arm._

_“Whatever. Are you done? You said you could drive us to Tony's for the party.”_

_“We're not going to any party,” Keith said, looking over from where Lance was nervously fussing over him._

_“Not going is for losers, Kogane. If you're rolling with me, you're going.”_

_“But—”_

_“Or you can walk home.”Keith blanched, mind flicking to his foster parents._

_“Fine. Whatever.” Keith turned with a huff, adjusting his jacket and reaching for Lance. “We'll be in the parking lot.”_

_“Walking your date to his car, Keithy boy?” Sendak called. Allura giggled._

_“Leave them alone,” she said. “I think it's sweet.”_

_“Hm, they deserve each other don't they?” Lotor said sweetly. “Two little fruits in a wicker basket.”_

_“So all you jocks are just jerks then,” Lance asked incredulously, turning around. Keith tugged on his arm._

_“Ignore them,” he said, nervous despite himself._

_“Why do you let them treat you like that?” Lance said, turning towards him._

_“What?”_

_“They’re a bunch of jerks and you just—”_

_“They’re my friends, Lance,” he said weakly, trying again to pull Lance away._

_“His only friends,” Lotor emphasized. Stepping up behind the pair. Lance turned to face him, jaw clenched tight as he looked up at Lotor._

_“Well not anymore,” Lance said, reaching back and taking Keith's hand. “He doesn't need a bunch of idiots like you.”_

_“Oh, well goody for you, Keith-y boy. When’s the wedding?” Lotor said, shoving his hands deep in his pockets and sauntering forwards. Lance flushed, dropping Keith’s hand and crossing his arms. Lotor only laughed. “Aww, not so hot for Keith, Cuba?” He loomed over him and Lance squared his shoulders. “You know—” an arm around his shoulders pulling Lance against Lotor’s side “—you complain about us “jocks,” but maybe a real man is just what you’re looking for,” he purred, letting his fingers trail over Lance’s chest. Lance flinched, pushing at the taller boy._

_“Ew, get away from me!” he cried, shoving away from Lotor’s chest. Lotor snagged him by his jacket, fingers digging into his shoulder._

_“C’mon, Lance, I promise I’ll be good to you,” Lotor teased, reaching for Lance’s jaw. Lance jerked out of his hold, stumbling away. Keith grabbed him, holding him upright._

_“Let’s just go,” he hissed in Lance’s ear._

_“Worried I’ll steal your boyfriend, Kogane?”_

_“Lotor, just drop it already,” Allura called, boredly. She was walking towards them, arms crossed over her chest. Lance glanced over, eyes trailing up her long legs to the hem of her cheer uniform, tight around her thighs. He swallowed once, looking hastily away, but not before Lotor noticed, laughing high and loud._

_“Nevermind then. Not even Kogane is enough to hold your interest Lance. Pity too, he spends all his time looking at you—”_

_“Will you shut up?” Keith shouted, stepping between them. Lotor ignored him, talking over his head to Lance._

_“And you can't choose if you're a fairy or not. Maybe you're just a freak,” he sneered, a sick smile twisting his face. “Or a slut. Probably both. Guess that gives Keith a chance after all.”_

_“Shut up!” Lance yelled, face bright red. Lotor only laughed, reaching back and taking Allura’s hand._

_“You boys have fun,” he said, tugging her beneath his arm. He leaned in close, whispering something in her ear. She giggled, hitting his chest before looking over her shoulder at Lance. She blew him a kiss, winking as Lotor and his friends guffawed._

_Lance blanched, looking away in shame._

 

“I knew Lotor was awful to you two and I never tried to stop him,” Allura said quietly.

“Allura—”

“I let it happen. I participated… I made it okay.”

“Can we not,” Lance pleaded, standing from where they were huddled on the floor.

“Lance, I really think this is important—”

“Well I don’t, okay? You’re the least of my worries right now, especially about all this; so can we just leave it alone—”

“No, because it’s adding to how stressed you are around me and I know you’re already struggling today.”

“Well that’s no one’s fault but Keith’s so you don’t have to worry yourself.”

“Keith? Keith Kogane? He’s at Altea too?”

“Yeah he’s… he’s here,” Lance said, suddenly tired. He sunk down on the couch, saying nothing as Allura came and sat beside him. 

“That must be really difficult for you. When did you run into him?” Lance gave a wry laugh.

“When haven’t I? We have class together three days a week, and week two we ended up at the same lab table.” He covered his face with his hands, pressing hard on his eyes. Allura scooted closer to him on the couch, saying his name gently. He moved a hand and looked at her through one eye.

“Have you talked to anybody about this? Your professor? Or a school counselor?”

“No, it really wasn’t a big deal until today.”

“What happened today?” Allura asked warily.

And even though he didn’t mean to— didn’t even want to— Lance found himself spilling everything to Allura, starting with day one and Keith watching him in class and ending with his earlier outburst in the hallway. By the time he was done, he was shaking on Allura’s couch and she hastily wrapped a blanket around his shoulders.

“It’s okay. It’s okay, Lance. Just breathe.”

Somehow, he was able to follow her instructions, slowly calming his breath and pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes to quell the tears threatening to spill from them.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m such a mess—”

“Lance, it’s okay to be a mess. You’ve more than earned it. You… You really cared for him. Anyone could see it. Why else would you put up with Lotor and his tag-alongs—”

“This isn’t my fault. I wasn’t- wasn’t ‘putting up with them’—”

“Lance, that’s not what I—”

“And even if I was, I had no other choice! I couldn’t up and switch schools like Keith did. I had nowhere else to be, ok?”

“I know that. And I’m saying that you did the best with the situation you were given. Lance, you survived. You got yourself into a good university and you have friends who support you. But along the way, I think Keith might’ve had more of an effect on you than you like to think. And until you let yourself reckon with that, you’re not going to move forwards.”

Lance was quiet for a long moment, pulling the blanket tight around him.

“I guess I’ve just been trying so hard to forget,” he said sadly. “I mean, it hurt when he left. It really did but… I wasn’t too surprised by it, I guess. And after that, it didn’t really matter what Lotor and them did. They only had one more year at Garrison anyways and I know that me and Keith being… being together had sort of made everything else worse. But even though being together sometimes sucked, I never actually wanted it to end.”

“Did you two ever talk about your feelings?” Allura asked. Lance startled, looking at her with wide eyes. He felt his face heat up and looked down at his knees. He shook his head.

“We never talked about it. Neither of us… Keith didn’t want to be gay and I was really nervous about realizing I was bi and— We just never thought about ourselves… like that.”

They lapsed into silence. Outside, rain continued to beat against the windows. Lance realized that sometime during their conversation the record had stopped. He missed the noise, as now his thoughts beat against his skull like a bass drum, their loudness overwhelming in the thick quiet. 

Finally. Allura spoke.

“I am sorry, Lance.”

He sniffled. “It’s okay. We kinda didn’t know better, you know?”

“That’s just a shitty excuse we say.”

“It’s better than the alternative.”

“Which is?”

“Teenagers are cruel.”

“You’re still a teenager though, Lance.”

“So’s Keith.”

Silence filled the gap again. 

“Have you eaten?” Allura asked. Lance shook his head. She looked at the clock. “Romelle is gonna be out of section soon, and we usually order Chinese on Fridays. You want in?”

“I should really go back to my dorm—”

“Stay. I’d feel better knowing you’re okay. Besides, your clothes aren’t dry yet and you’ll get sick walking through the rain in them.” She stood, flipping the record and grabbing her laptop before sinking into the bean-bag chair and pulling up a delivery site. Lance keeled over on the couch, laying down and rearranging the blanket around him. 

“What do you want?” Allura asked. 

“Could I just get sesame chicken and steamed rice?”

“Coming right up,” Allura said. She placed the order and stood, heading to the kitchenette for some water. She poured a second cup bringing it to Lance only to realize he’d dozed off. She set the water on the table, pulling an extra blanket over him and letting him rest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What'd you think? What was your favorite part? How do we feel about Allura's introduction? What'd you love?
> 
> Remember babes, extra sweet to me in the comments or come see me on [tumblr](https://profoundprincessface.tumblr.com/)! 
> 
> ♡♡♡ T

**Author's Note:**

> What was your favorite moment? Where do you think we're going next?
> 
> Let me know in a comment!
> 
> Visit me on [tumblr](https://profoundprincessface.tumblr.com/) to watch me collect memes and mourn vine.
> 
> xoxo  
> ~Tay


End file.
